Muster

I have no immediate family members who died while serving our country in the military, and recognize that to be a blessing and a gift of great price. My gratitude to those who have paid it.

I actually went to work today because the last week of every month is crunch time at my job. I didn't want to; I've come down with a cold on top of rampant seasonal allergies, and feel like hammered grunt. But I am nothing if not responsible, so off I went, then came home, guided my boy through violin practice, then hauled him off to a violin lesson. After we got home from that and supper was over, I headed out to ride my horse. I mumbled something to my husband about just wanting to go to bed, and he said, "You don't have to ride." I responded that everything that needs doing takes too much brain power, and I'd feel better after getting some fresh air. He said, "You can come look at my garden with me." (He'd spent much of the day weeding his grapes and berries.) I said, "That wouldn't take long; I'm not going to just stand there and gaze at it." He said, "You do with your sheep." I snorted and said, "I take pictures of my sheep, and snuggle with my sheep. You can't snuggle a grapevine." Then I quipped, "You're Cain, I'm Abel." Ha!

The gardener was willing to help the shepherd yesterday morning, though. I restrained so he could remove Vienna's stitches, tag lambs, and give them their second CD&T shots. It all went quickly and smoothly, then the ewes and lambs went out to pasture.

My beautiful Bree, with new accessory

A bit later, I caught Barbados so he'd be ready for his new owners to pick up at noon. He's mild-mannered, polled and fine-fleeced – just what they were looking for.

I have two more out of the same dam that are just as nice, if someone else is looking for a fine-fleeced flock sire. But their time as intact is running out!

Belfast's fleece, mid-side

Boston's fleece, mid-side

Now I need to muster myself off to bed at . . .